Don't Take It Too Personal
by nevillelongbottomfanatic
Summary: Ponyboy doesn't understand. Just because he's a Greaser, she has the right to ignore him? This is a Cherry/Ponyboy fanfic that is my take on one of the movie scenes, and what should have happened.


**A/N This story is just a sort of oneshot between Ponyboy and Cherry that is based off one of the scenes in the movie "The Outsiders: Complete Novel Version." I love this pairing and am only playing around with the characters. **

**I'm not sure that I got Ponyboy's attitude/voice quite right, but just imagine him as a really angry, tired, fed-up version of Ponyboy **** .**

**Also, this scene takes place during the movie/book, just after Johnny and Dally die, but right before Ponyboy finds the note Johnny left him in ****Gone With the Wind****. **

**As always, please review! Please don't be too harsh, though… I'm sorta new at this. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders, SE Hinton does… but I like to think that I'm married to Darry **

Ponyboy's POV

"Don't take it too personal." Cherry's words rang in my ears as I hovered near the school's stone steps, bouncing a ball and waiting impatiently for the bell to ring. Plopping down on the lowest step, I held my bouncy ball to my cheek, its color making me of her red hair.

"Don't take it too personal."

I was restless, jumping up again to pace back and forth in front of the school, bouncing my ball at a ferocious speed, only to drop with a sigh back down.

I finished the Pepsi I had brought along in five swigs. I soon found myself tapping the empty bottle against my thigh. I began to hum, changing from an Elvis song to a Lesley Gore song to a Johnny Maestro song, and back to an Elvis song. My tapping began to pick up speed, as did my humming, until I heard a shattering sound, and I glanced down in surprise, my gaze falling on the shards of broken glass scattered across my leg and the step around me. I stood carefully, walking over to the trash barrel a couple feet away, and dropped the broken bottle into the bin, watching as it hit the bottom with a muted thud, shattering into a dozen pieces that ricocheted off the sides and bottom of the can. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. The bottle reminded me of Cherry, and the bottle I told her I could never use. I smiled a small little half- smile, tilting my face toward the sun. I was hopeless. My face jerked toward the school when the bell rang, breaking my train of thought. Students burst through the doors, chatting amiably amongst themselves. I stood awkwardly off to he side. I needed to talk to my English teacher, and the entire track team had gotten the day off to prepare for the upcoming competition. I was tired, sore, and not in the least bit eager to come back to school on my day off. I watched as swarms of kids exited the building, thinking that it seemed unbelievable that something so small could hold so many kids. Suddenly, a flash of red caught my eye, and I stood rigidly, my eyes locked on the girl who had just exited the building. She stood at the top of the staircase, her eyes flitting from one face to the next, until they finally landed on my face. Her eyes brightened in recognition, and I gave her a half smile. She looked as though she was about to say something, but her face suddenly went perfectly smooth, her expression indifferent, and her gaze lifted from my face, coming to rest on a group of chattering girls toward the other end of the stone steps, near the trashcan. She skipped down the steps, coming to a halt next to the giggly clan of girls. Upon her arrival, the group began to slowly make its way up the sidewalk, away from the school. Staring after her, I heard her voice in my head. "Don't take it too personal." But I did. I took it personal, all right. Real personal. It took me only three long strides to reach the group, and, driven by my anger, I reached out, wrapping my hand around Cherry's wrist. She spun around, her fist raised high, but I quickly closed the distance between us before she could get a good hit in. When my lips met hers, she unclenched her fist and threw both arms around my neck. I ignored the shocked gasps that arose from her friends, and paid no attention to the few shrill screams of indignation that met my ears. When we broke apart, she stared at me in wonder. "Don't take it too personal,"' I whispered to her, before twisting out of her arms, marching swiftly toward the school. I ducked inside the doors quickly, but not before hearing her shocked gasp: "Ponyboy!"

Cherry's POV

My friends gathered around me, their voices alarmed, as I touched my lips, watching Ponyboy Curtis storm off haughtily toward the school's main entrance. Faces swarmed around me, ducking in and out of my line of vision so fast that they blurred together. Someone was standing directly in front of me, blocking me from moving. Luckily, this in no way restricted the flow of words from my mouth. "Ponyboy!" I shrieked, a hint of hysteria in my voice, and I tried to push past the person blocking my view, but they held their position. I saw him stiffen ever so slightly as I called his name, but his step did not falter. I sighed and leaned back in defeat, and four of my friends- Sally, Molly, Marcia and Cecile- hurried to stand in front of me, their eyes filled with shock, disgust, and wonder. "Who was THAT?" Molly demanded, her mouth slightly agape. "That," I answered breathlessly, "was Ponyboy Curtis." My gaze remained locked on the door he had gone through only moments before. "You knew that filthy Greaser?" My gaze flickered down to Cecile's face, and found disgust written all over her face. I studied her for a moment, before straightening indignantly, and Cecile squirmed uncomfortably from where I gazed down at her. "Yeah, I know him. And he's no filthier than you are." With that, I swept past her, smugly noting the priceless look on her face as I followed Ponyboy into the building.


End file.
